The Divorce is Ready, My Ex-Husband

I woke up to the sterile white of the hospital ceiling again. The smell of antiseptic was too familiar by now, as if even my lungs had learned to live with it.

A nurse leaned over, gently checking my vitals. “You’re awake,” she said softly, then sighed. “Chloe… this is the third time this month. I really think you should call someone. A family member. A friend? Or should we report this to the police?”

I gave her a faint smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “There’s no one left to call. And I’m okay, I’ll handle this myself.”

She hesitated, clearly unsure of how to respond. Then she nodded and quietly excused herself.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I turned to my phone resting on the side table. Notifications flashed across the screen. One, in particular, made my breath catch.

It was a message from Alynna.

There was a photo. A fresh one—Alynna curled up in Clinton’s arms, the two of them smiling like the world hadn’t just shattered around me. Like I hadn't just buried our baby. Like I didn't exist.

A second later, a video followed. I hesitated—my finger hovering—then tapped play.

It was them. In our room. My room.

Alynna giggling as Clinton pulled her close. His hands around her waist. Her lips pressing to his as he lifted her onto the bed. And then—her moaning his name like I never existed.

My throat tightened. My chest felt hollow.

Another message lit up my screen.

“Oops, I don’t think you were supposed to see that. But since you did—sorry. Clinton can’t come today. He’s… busy. With me. Don’t worry. You won’t die from a little food mishap, right?”

I stared at it for a long time. But I didn’t cry.

Not anymore.

Instead, I deleted the message and placed my phone face down. My heart felt strangely light—like it had been emptied out long ago, and now there was nothing left to break.

Moments later, the phone buzzed again. This time, it was from Nathan.

“Everything’s ready. Just give me the signal and I’ll pick you up. No more delays, Chloe.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“I’ll be there,” I typed back.

“You better be,” he replied. “I’m not going to let you waste your life with that man anymore.”

Nathan. The one I once rejected because I thought loyalty to Clinton mattered more than love. The one who waited anyway. The one who offered me an out.

It was time to take it.

Later that day, I was discharged. No one came to pick me up—not that I expected anyone to.

When I returned home, I headed straight to my room, only to find more of Alynna’s things in place of mine. Makeup scattered on my vanity. Her heels in my closet. Like I was already erased from the life I supposedly owned.

But I wasn’t staying long. I just had one final thing to do.

The divorce papers were inside my bag, freshly printed and ready. The only missing part was Clinton’s signature.

And as if the universe heard me, there he was at the dining table, buried under a stack of documents. He didn’t even look up.

“Bring me some coffee,” he muttered. “And sort through these. Just flip them when I’m done.”

I approached slowly, heart pounding, and slipped the divorce papers into the stack. When he reached for the pen, I flipped the page without blinking.

He signed. Just like that.

“Anything else?” he asked flatly.

“No,” I said quietly. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll rest after I cook.”

“Good,” he grunted. “Alynna’s craving something spicy. Don’t mess it up.”

I nodded and walked to the kitchen.

No more arguments. No more shouting. Just this one last performance before the curtain dropped on this life.

I chopped the vegetables in silence. The knife hitting the board was the only rhythm left in my heart.

Alynna walked in moments later. She leaned against the counter like she owned the entire house. “You’re still here?” she said, her voice sharp and smug.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

“I mean, why?” she pressed on. “Shouldn’t you be gone by now? Honestly, I thought I got rid of you already. You’re like gum on a shoe.”

I kept chopping, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

Then she leaned closer and whispered, “Why are you still alive?”

That made me stop.

“I will be gone soon,” I said evenly. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across her face. “Good. Be gone before I give him his heir. I don’t want you clinging to our lives like a ghost.”

She turned and walked out, heels clicking against the tile.

But what she didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that I was already gone.

All that remained now was my shadow.